Strong Enough
by Berk's-Potato-Bender
Summary: The sky was bleeding red. Sparks flew up high, and heat beat like a whip from the wreckage of the shuttle. Pidge dared not go closer to the flaming carcass. She cried out repeatedly, until her voice was hoarse. "Keith! Keith, where are you?" (OR) An escort mission goes very, very wrong. Pidge has to be strong enough for three. (LIKE THE CHARACTERS, THIS WORK IS ABANDONED)
1. The Escort Mission

**Hey all**

 **Welcome to this dumpster fire of a fic that I've been meaning to write ever since season 2! I attempted to pull off NaNoWriMo with this fic this year, but life gets in the way, so I'm going to go at my own pace for this!**

 **A quick note! This fic takes place in the same headcanon universe that I constructed for my previous fic, Beautiful Minds! I might do some name drops and conduct some scenes in locations that may be familiar to some of you. If you've just gotten onto this crazy train, it's not essential to read Beautiful Minds, but it might help for clarification in regards to my world building.**

 **Feel free to come talk at me on my tumblr thepigeoning**

 **Welcome aboard the crazy train, there ain't no getting off!**

* * *

Space stretched out before Pidge. Strewn within the boundless expanse were stars, planets, and nebulas, some so far away that they were barely visible.

A star burned brightly to portside, and several planets were racing in their orbits all around. Despite the entire universe being safe now, Pidge still felt tense about the prospect of a Galra Cruiser that might be around any corner.

Post-war jitters.

Maybe that's why wearing her light, ceremonial armor, she felt vulnerable. The breastplate was too thin to do any real protecting, and the bracers didn't have any tech in them. The only functional piece was the bayard holster.

She fiddled with the bracer's gilded edge.

They were on radio silence at the moment, so the cockpit was silent, save for the annoying foot tapping of the other occupant.

Pidge side-eyed her companion.

Tall. Impossibly slim, with an impossibly small waist. He had a long neck that serviced an angular head. His shocking gold eyes were enormous. His snowy skin gave way to raven black hair, pleated tightly down his back.

His annoying foot tapping was going to drive her insane. But Allura had warned Pidge to ' _Be courteous. It is imperative that we maintain relations with the Princes. This escort mission has to be seamless.'_

He didn't look like he realised he was bothering her. His abnormally huge eyes were glued to the tablet in his hands, flicking back and forth as he read the contents.

All the while, his foot tapped away.

The foot tapping offender was also known as Prince Jelte deHaed, a member of the Ioden race. The title was misleading, of course. Pidge had done her research. The Ioden were a race of information hoarders, and to them, knowledge literally was power. The more information an individual contributed to the Ioden Library, the higher up the ranks said individual could climb.

Pidge cleared her throat, quite pointedly, but the tapping continued. He was completely engrossed, golden eyes scanning, heedless of her.

More tapping.

Tapping.

Tap.

They had another week of travel to go; traveling by wormhole was too noticeable.

Tap.

Tap.

Tap tap.

"So…" Pidge said suddenly, and much louder than she intended. "You're a scholar?"

The Prince's eyes flicked up. "I am a Prince. I _was_ a Scholar a few decapheobes ago, when my Focus Study began yielding new information."

"Meaning?"

He turned off the tablet, looking up and leaning back in the chair. "My assigned subject of study, my life's work, is creating an account of the history of the Galra Empire."

"Oh." That was what the whole mission was about, of course. Pidge reminded herself. Escort Prince Jelte safely back to the Ioden homeworld, so he could complete the records on the crumbled Galra Empire, and bring a conclusion to his Focus Study.

Pidge sank in her seat a little.

"Up until recently, my work was considered a lowly task, since no true development had taken place for centuries. I once contributed pitifully little to the Ioden Library, but I do believe that I owe my recent success to Voltron, and its Paladins."

"Glad we can help…" Pidge said, feeling her sentiment became awkwardly stilted. She trailed off, and Prince Jelte went back to reading his tablet.

This was going to be a very long escort mission.

They were passing by a small planet now – turquoise all over, with veins of white mountains that carved the landscape.

Pidge flicked a communication screen up. "Keith, check in."

The screen was small, and the angle was shifting erratically around her fellow paladin. She had the link connected with Fido, a hoverbot, but its learning algorithm was still getting the hang of straying from Pidge.

Fido had a habit of getting distracted by geometric patterns. Usually the little bot would start beeping and humming little ditties if Pidge wasn't there to get it back on track. She was unsure if it was an emerging personality or just a glitch.

Keith was counting the ship's reserves. They had to stop for oxygen refills and other supplies at the halfway marker of their journey, which was a planet Pidge calculated to be half hour off yet.

"We have a day left for oxygen. We have enough food for four days, and everything else has about two days left." Fido bumped into the Red Paladin's forehead, whirring excitedly. Keith pushed the little robot back gently, arm's length away. "Stay right there, little guy."

Pidge grinned into her hand.

"We'll be at the station in a bit. Can you do a general check of the engine room before you switch out with me for landing?"

"Ya, no problem." Keith ducked down, slipping through the low door out of the supply room. Pidge lost visual on him for a moment until Keith poked his head back in the room and beckoned Fido to follow.

Fido excitedly bumbled after Keith, beeping and whistling a demented little tune. His motion tracking was thrown off every time Keith flicked those fuzzy ears.

Pidge could see their goal ahead of them – a heavily forested planet known as Erobine. It was home to a well-known port that had a shiny exterior that catered to economic high riders, but the underbelly was pitted and blackened by the more 'affordable' markets.

She leaned back in the captain's chair, easing lazily at the controls.

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

Pidge huffed, lolling her head off to the side out of boredom. Just a few minutes before Keith would be done checking on the engine, and she could take a backseat and enjoy herself.

Tap.

Tap tap.

Pidge couldn't take it anymore. She bolted up, shooting a glare at the Prince. "Could you please stop that?"

Jelte looked up and shrugged.

Pidge opened her mouth once more, but was suddenly thrown out of her seat by a resounding BOOM that shook the entire shuttle. Her head smacked on the console, and she reeled away with a shout.

Prince Jelte was on the floor, shocked and panting sharply. Pidge told him to stay down as she pulled herself back up into the pilot's chair.

"Keith! Status Report! The hell is happening down there?"

No video feed. Just skitzing audio that was heavy with static, and what Pidge hoped to God wasn't the crack of flame.

 _"Yah, something bust… I… *sh* fucked… *fzzztttt*"_

"Can you fix it?"

The next statement came over clear. _"I'm a_ fucking _pilot!"_

"Okay… guess not." Pidge grimaced. "Get out of the engine room and –" another tremor ran through the shuttle – "just get up here."

 _"Copy_. _"_

Pidge took the controls in her hands with a white-knuckle grip, clenching her jaw. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the Prince moving across the floor to retrieve his tablet. She barked at him. "Jelte, stay down, dammit!"

The shuttle was listing dangerously. Indicators were flashing and squealing at her, trying to tell all at once what was wrong.

"Shit!"

Buttons weren't going to help her now. The port thruster was trash. And forget about the starboard – the entire engine block was offline.

The distance to Erobine was still far too great, with the ship rapidly depressurising.

Out of options.

"Prince Jelte, hold tight."

"To _what_?!"

"Anything!"

Pidge cranked down on a lever with her full weight - manually unlocking the air brakes. Next, the sputtering starboard thruster is put out of its misery – plunging the shuttle straight towards the turquoise planet.

She threw open Fido's feed again.

"Keith, forget about the cockpit. Hunker down."

" _Copy."_

God, his voice sounded _terrible_. The available feed that peered through every few seconds was just the view of Keith's elbow – Fido was being carried.

Pidge battled the shakiness out of her voice. "I'm making an emergency landing. How do I slow us down?"

Keith's breathing shuddered dangerously over the feed. Even through the static, Pidge could hear it. " _You're insane_."

"Keith…" Pidge grit out through her teeth.

 _"Fine!"_ Keith barked. _"You hav-vvvvtt put the tail counter to orbit. Once you're in the *atmosphssssssfpzt* air brakes."_

"Heh, that's it?"

 _"Just don't *ffzzzttt* killed."_

"Copy."

* * *

So going ass to the wind wasn't exactly the best idea in the world – both in the literal and figurative sense here– Pidge should have remembered that she was dealing with the most compulsive pilot in the known universe.

One that also flunked out of the Galaxy Garrison a year earlier than her.

When the air brakes were torn from the wings of the shuttle, and they were heading straight for shitsville, Pidge yanked back on the joystick.

The nose of the shuttle bucked up to the sky, and the wings caught the air.

The shuttle jolted violently.

The metal screeched in protest, and the chassis shuddered.

"Just hold on." Pidge urged the shuttle, gripped the controls.

"…I am…" Jelte said hoarsely.

 _Jesus…_ Pidge grimaced.

She could barely see where she was going now, now that the front window was only giving her red sky and mountain peaks.

All of the ranges ran horizontally across the planet's scape, so they were lucky to have a long landing strip. The probability of hitting a mountain was a tentative 38% - she wasn't sure about atmospheric density on this planet.

Either way, they were barreling at high speed into a treed mountain valley somewhere, gathering flames as they tore the atmosphere a new one.

This was all she could do.

"Keith, are you braced?"

" _Mos*shss*ly"_

"Jelte?" She locked eyes with the prince across the cockpit. The small belt was strapped across his lap like Pidge had, and his hands were gripping tight to the armrests. The best he could do – there was nothing else in the shuttle.

He nodded joltingly.

Pidge swallowed.

 _Sorry, Allura. This escort mission might not be too smooth._


	2. Boom Crash A HeaRT ATTACK

**This chapter is hnnggggggggggg**

* * *

 _Pidge lay back on the beach, propped on her elbows. The drink in her hand was half empty, and she felt it in her head too. Crackling fireworks were being launched from one of the nearby islets – even though the celebrations officially weren't to start until the next day, the locals were already hosting feasts and getting into festivities._

 _The celebration in Vesta Calda taking place the next day was supposed to be magnificent. The Alliance Council was promising a week of fireworks, as well as feasts, parties, socials, and more for as long as Allura will let them._

 _Everybody wanted to ride the high for as long as possible. They deserved to. It had been a hard past ten thousand years._

 _"Hey. Mind if I join you?"_

 _She looked behind her, then relaxed._

 _"Yah, pull up a seat." Pidge patted the sand beside her. "Liberation Day fireworks."_

 _Matt grunted as he sat next to her, muttering something about his knee. He was holding a drink as well, newly opened and glowing a little in the light of the fireworks._

 _"How long you gonna be staying?" She asked. She didn't look away from the fireworks as he answered._

 _"Until the festivities end… which could be weeks, I don't know. Coran says I look good in group shots… but to be honest, the universe doesn't really need a rebel captain anymore."_

 _"Don't need a Voltron Paladin, either."_

 _Matt chuckled. "Obsolete as floppy disks."_

 _Pidged rolled her eyes. "Cheers to the new age," she said. "And planned obsolescence."_

 _Their bottles rang, and Pidge felt a pit settle in her stomach._

* * *

The sky was a horrid colour. Crimson. Bleeding. Flaming.

Pidge coughed violently, gasping when her head pounded like a jackhammer. Everything felt like hell. Sparks billowed wildly, and heat beat like a whip from the wreckage around her.

The nose of what was left of the shuttle was pointing upward. She could feel heat, and hear the crackle of flames. _Shit._ The seatbelt was useless. Pidge wretched it loose. _Fire makes everything worse._

 _The shuttle's power source is hydrogen based._

She bolted upright in her seat.

She had to get out of there – but Jelte.

He was still in his seat. Unconscious. The back of the seat was cracked, and he was leaned dangerously backwards. A unit from the back of the cockpit had come loose and struck it.

That impossibly thin body was bent very awkwardly.

There was blood.

Pidge swore violently. She summoned her bayard from its holster. She could do this.

She reared her hand back, then smashed it against the windshield. Her ribcage screamed in protest, but Pidge continued to ram the glass with her weapon.

 _Come on! Break! Break!_

Something was going to break. Either the window or her ribs. _Can't worry about myself right now._

CRACK.

Finally, the glass had a real spiderweb fracture, and Pidge's bayard finally punched through. The glass was barely pliant, but Pidge was able to pry a portion off.

She tossed it down, out of the way.

She didn't realise how polluted the air was until the fresh air rolled in through the hole. It was still rancid, but it was better than the smoke building in the cockpit.

Pidge easily stepped over to the unconscious Prince. She steadied over him, feet planted on the front of the chair arms. _Okay… how about a pulse?_ Pidge leaned forwards, taking a wild guess at a pulse point on Jelte's wrist.

For a moment Pidge couldn't feel anything – maybe it was just the overwhelming heat that was making her head spin, or it was her own pulse she was feeling, but that doubt couldn't exist. Pidge yanked the seatbelt off of the Prince. She slipped her hand in beneath his back, and lifted him out of the chair.

The chairs were situated close enough to the windshield that Pidge was able to easily lift him out – even with her ribcage's jagged pains. Prince Jelte was light.

The edges were sharp from the line of sharp glass, but she lifted the Prince over the lip of the window, unceremoniously pushing him out.

Pidge went out second, heaving herself up on the shuttle's nose.

The vessel had left a mile long scar in the valley – rich brown dirt was furrowed through, turquoise trees were scattered, roots exposed – and had been stopped short by a formidably thick tree, which was leaning dangerously from the weight of the heavy spacecraft.

Pidge hooked her arms under the Prince's armpits, hauling him closer to her chest. She had to figure out a way to get them all the way down the ship without falling. The portside wing was gone. The starboard was just barely propping up the shuttle.

"Okay Pidge… holy shit…"

There was no time to think of anything, because that's when the starboard wing gave out, crumbling like tinfoil.

"Fuuuucuckfuckfuckfuckfuck nonoon-n-n-no!" Pidge scrabbled for purchase with her feet, still gripping tightly to the limp Prince with both hands.

The tree squealed at the ship grated past its side, and the splintering sound was deafening. The shuttle fell to the ground with an almighty crash.

Pidge and the Prince were thrown to the ground, landing hard.

She tried cushioning for him, but immediately regretted it. Even though he was light, a bolt of pain struck through her whole chest, leaving her gasping for breath. The light armor could only protect her so much.

Pidge's head was ringing. Everything was spinning. It was all too overwhelming.

Pidge slid out from under the unconscious alien, and once more took his arms. She had to get him as far as she could from the fire. That meant stumbling backwards, dragging him by the pits over uneven ground.

Wait… there's something… the ringing in her head was making it so hard to think. It was… Pidge tripped backwards, back hitting a sharply knotted root. Pidge swore. She was getting distracted! She was letting her head go hazy.

She needed to think about -

 _"Keith!"_ Pidge almost dropped Jelte on the ground at the realisation. "Shit!" She didn't drop Jelte, but she fumbled him. She dragged him behind a tree, out of the heat. Pidge tucked him between two roots.

She stumbled back to the ship; arm up to protect her face.

Pidge dared not go closer to the flaming carcass. The entire rear of the ship was engulfed in billowing flames and smoke, while the front end was still untouched… minus the smashed up hull from the fall… but she had told Keith to hunker down– he couldn't be far from the engine block.

She cried out repeatedly, until her voice was hoarse. She skirted the edge of the spitting flames, calling. _Where is he?_

Her head was ringing so badly. With every yell her ribcage threatened to split. The smoke from the carnage stuffed up her lungs.

Every instinct told Pidge to run away. Fast. Far. Leave the Prince. Leave Keith. Just run. Flight. That's what small people like Pidge do. Fleeing is easier… safe… but… Pidge rushed forward, stumbling a little, but it didn't matter.

There was a panel on the side of the ship that was exposed and not spewing flames.

It was too hot. Pidge almost buckled under the weight of the heat as she scrambled for the door, pulling herself through. The metal was scorching to the touch. The hallway was bare; no fuel for the flames, but there was a red reflection and a nasty sputtering being birthed down one of the side hallways.

Pidge almost went to her bracer to try to contact Keith, but was quickly reminded that the ceremonial armor didn't have their usual communication devices. And Pidge didn't have a backup – she didn't exactly have time to find something like that. There was no time to think about that – she had to find Keith. The Kevlar-like material that his suit was made from was flame resistant, but he'd still cook in that thing if he couldn't get away from the flames.

She rounded the corner anxiously. No sign of Keith.

Pidge kept going, coughing into her elbow and grimacing away the pain. Her vision was blurring again, but she pushed on.

She almost missed it, with all the smoke and haze, but she spotted the small form puttering towards her.

Fido stayed close to the floor, shuddering and jolting. There was a large dent on his top half, and it definitely was messing with his circuitry.

"Oh, buddy, come'ere." Pidge stooped down, careful not to aggravate her ribs. She scooped up the little bot. "Where's Keith? Can you tell me-" She coughed- "tell me where he is?"

Fido beeped excitedly. He might have had some wires crossed, because the sequence wasn't the Morse she had taught him. Thankfully he just settled for tugging forward in Pidge's arm, directing her down the hallway.

It took a few more turns and a stairwell before Fido had brought her to a hall that had smoke hanging thickly. He was starting to go nuts, flashing and buzzing and pulling insistently. They must be very close to Keith, then.

The walls were blackened.

Pidge kneeled down, crawling under the smoke where the air was cleanest. Fido led the way into one of the supply rooms.

It was water storage – smart, on Keith's part – and didn't have any flames inside. The room was sectioned off by rows of water tanks, and some shelving on the walls for smaller containers like pouches and cooking water jugs. Now, everything that had once been on the shelves was cast all over the floor, piled up in corners or broken, spilling their precious contents.

Pidge followed in after Fido, crawling around the first and second rows of tanks, and led into the space between.

"Oh, shit."

Keith was tucked in between the tanks, curled in on himself, breath coming in wrecked sobs.

 _He's shutting down? NOW?_

Pidge crawled closer, then swore quietly when she saw him fully.

His skin on the right side of his face was blistered and angry red and bloody. Where fur usually met the skin on his jaw, there was only a charred, sooty mess. The once fluffy ear was blackened and bloody. The bleeding blisters continued down his neck until the material of his suit cut off damage. His hand clenched at his chest tightly, crossed over his left. He smelled like burnt hair and flesh.

Pidge threw up a little in her mouth, but she swallowed it down hard.

She reached out for his hands, taking them and trying to get his attention. "Keith, come on, come with me. We need to get you out, but I can't fully carry you. You have to help me out here."

Keith whined loudly, but allowed himself to be pulled along by his right arm, keeping his left tucked to his chest. _Something's broken?_ Pidge didn't puzzle over it for too long. She was busy getting him out. She couldn't drag him if his arm was messed up – because the other side was badly burned, and that could injure Keith further.

She tried to hurry their walk back down the hallway filled with smoke, and continued to push Keith's speed the farther they went. Up the stairs, down several hallways - it was a punishing pace Pidge set, especially since they were both injured, but they needed to get _out_ , and fast.

Fido stayed nervously behind them, chittering and beeping at them urgently. His pattern of movement was still erratic and messy, and sometimes he would ram into Pidge's back and trip her up.

Pidge could see the port now – the smoke was thinned around it as it funneled out into open air.

"Only a little farther," she reassured, for both Keith and herself. "Come on."

The port let out onto the ground – it used to be over the wing – and it spat them out onto the ground like they were offensive to taste.

Pidge ate shit – and so did Keith.

Even in his dazed state, he had awareness enough to yell at the pain.

Something was definitely broken in his arm. Pidge could see it in the way he crumpled, going so far as to roll onto the burned side of his head to avoid aggravating his left arm.

Overhead, Fido screamed loudly as he shot off the ship, head on into a tree.

Pidge didn't wait. She could wait to deal with that. She scrambled to a stand, snatching up Keith's good hand to yank him up and away from the shuttle. The need to escape, to get away was so great, it thudded in Pidge's head.

It doesn't matter if Keith hurts a little now.

It doesn't matter if she's scared all the way to hell and back.

What matters now is that she has Keith by the arm and is pulling him away, away from the fire that hungrily consumes the ship.

Keith's weight was starting to get worse on her shoulders – he was stumbling more and more, tripping over roots and uneven rocks that Pidge was able to avoid well enough. He wasn't seeing them. His eyes were unfocused, and all his unburned features were screwed tight in a grimace.

Despite being turned around, Pidge found the tree that she had tucked the Prince in behind. He was still out cold, so he hadn't moved anywhere. Fantastic.

Pidge looked back over her shoulder. The shuttle was about a hundred metres away – it and the tree were angled towards them, so the trunk itself extended past where they were now, though it still didn't show any signs of tapering off.

She lowered Keith to the ground next to the Prince, sitting him against the trunk. The tree had naturally formed a small scoop in its roots that sheltered them from the one side, and provided protection from the heat.

Pidge fumbled with her bracers, pulling them off and taking her gloves off with her teeth. She repositioned his head so the burned side was fully exposed. "I need to clean your wounds."

"Fuck'ov." He spoke out of the uninjured side of his mouth.

"I don't know shit so you need to tell me what to do!"

"Don't touch. Don't." He grit out. "Check on the Prince."

Pidge was hesitant, but she leaned over to check on the Prince was. She checked Jelte's pulse once more – just to be sure that he was alive. He was, thank God. The blood that she had panicked over in the cockpit was little more than some scratch on his scalp, something that had closed over by itself, and was hidden by a wave of hair.

There was that worrisome angle of his back – but Pidge was going to hope that that was due to natural flexibility in his species.

Pidge looked away as quickly as she could, surveying instead the mess that was Keith's face.

"Going to have to take off the side of my uniform." Keith said quietly, catching her eye. "Or cut it off…"

"What?"

"Don't want this stuck to my scabs," He said firmly. "Cut the suit back a few inches. Take off my hood. My blade…"

She knew that somewhere on Keith's suit there were two clips that kept the hood in place in the front – the Blades were pretty efficient with their clothing. She tugged the thick hood off of its snap button clips. Keith hissed at the jostling, and she quickly apologized. The hood was tossed to the side. Pidge unsheathed Keith's dagger from where it was strapped to his leg, and leaned over him carefully. She was very careful not to nick Keith's skin, or accidentally brush his open wounds while she split the fabric with his knife.

The burn didn't extend to the back of his neck, so she was able to touch there as she severed the strip she had cut.

When she pulled away, however, her arm brushed the shell of his ear, and Keith shouted, pulling away.

A blister on his neck popped open.

Pidge excused herself silently to vomit behind the next tree over.

She returned to huddle beside Keith, wiping her mouth with her sleeve. She hushed him through his whimpers, kept a reassuring hand only just touching his, and occasionally tapping that hand to encourage his eyes to stay open. He couldn't fall asleep now. She knew that she couldn't fall asleep now either – she had smacked her head hard against the console during the initial explosion on the shuttle, and her head was feeling topsy turvy, now that she stopped for a moment to think about it.

She needed to distract herself somehow. Take stock of her surroundings.

They had landed somewhere in a forest valley, just like she had tried to calculate. The mountains were white and streaked with chalky reds. Some trees were so tall they seemed impossible, like redwoods and douglas firs.

They provided decent shade in some spots, but in others the blood red sky was wide open, providing a view of the mountains that boxed them in, too.

All the leaves in the forest, from the enormous trees to the smallest of shrubs, was a variation of teal, predominantly turquoise. The trees of the forest all were white barked like somebody had gone through and taken a brush to them, and forgotten to paint over the brown stalks of bushes and other twig plants.

The soil was rich and dark, almost black, dotted with pebbles and crags of rock – almost like shale - that were stark white as the mountains around them.

Everything was damp enough that fire wouldn't catch or spread – perhaps it had rained beforehand.

There were no animals that she could see. That made sense. No creature in their right mind would stick around the flaming metal wreckage.

Now that she was wound down, the adrenaline was out of her system, and Pidge was starting to feel everything.

Her ribs were a cracked wicker basket, and she could feel the bruises coming on around her hips and shoulders. Someone had stuck a porcupine in her brain, too, and she was feeling the whiplash in her neck, and she felt like she had a bundle of pipe cleaners shoved down her throat, it was so wrecked by the smoke.

Pidge tapped Keith's hand once more. "Stay awake. We might be concussed… and I need you to be able to tell me if you're in too much pain."

He bared his teeth. "I'm in a shit ton of pain."

Pidge scowled at him, then at her bracers and the gloves she had discarded on the ground. Her gloves were somehow still in good repair, but the ceremonial bracer was dented and scratched. It was even more useless than before, which was hard to beat.

They lay in silence forever; the shuttle was still making a cacophony of noise. Pidge kept her eyes on it. If they had to move because of the fire, she had to be ready.

"All of our water was inside the shuttle." Pidge said hoarsely.

"…Yah."

"You're going to scar like Freddy Krueger."

"Pffft. Are you into that?"

Pidge scowled at him now, but only half-heartedly. "I like horror, but you're more Birdemic than Nightmare on Elm Street…"

"I am dying, and you're slandering my name with Birdemic." Keith's good hand smacked her thigh. Pidge chuckled, raising her leg defensively.

His hand lay limp after, and the two of them stared up at the canopy of leaves far above, and the night sky.

Pidge lightly touched his forearm. "What happened?"

He was in a lot of pain, Pidge could see, but she had to know.

Keith swallowed. "I was opening the door to check the engine block when something exploded. I wasn't in the room. I don't know what happened. I just closed the door real quick."

Pidge sighed. "What matters is that you're alive… that we're _all_ alive… And while we're alive, we know we're going to get out of this somehow."

After a few more moments of silence, Keith drifted off into sleep once more, and this time, she let him. Two hours of sleep, then she'd check on him again. Then he could keep watch over her.

Pidge crept over to where Prince Jelte was laying, silent as the dead, but Pidge could see his chest rise and fall.

His back still maintained an awkward ankle – Pidge really hoped to God that that was a normal thing for his species – that all Ioden were flexible in ways that made humans cringe.

She didn't know him well enough to get touchy – but she still reached out to lay her hand over his. It was cold and clammy, and the skin that normally was flat coloured was showing dark veins beneath.

Pidge tightened her grip on the hands of the men on either side of her.

Somewhere deep in the forest, there was a thunderous bellow, and the wind jostled the trees.

She felt so very small.

* * *

 **Hey all!**

 **Just in case any of you were wondering, the island mentioned at the beginning of the chapter is Yona Dekka, an island that is on the planet Pol Alare, the Coalition Capitol planet. The Paladins stay there time to time, and the island is their escape from the busy government!**

 **If you've read my other work 'Beautiful Minds', then you'll know all about it, as it's part of my headcanon universe. And if you wish to see further into my meta, the description of my coalition is at the beginning of chapter 7 of Beautiful Minds.**


	3. Survival: Start

Oh, ho ho? Writer's Block? Don't mind if I Do.

The 5 week college faculty strike here in Ontario just murdered my motivation, raked it through the mud for good measure, then took my free time and will to live and strangled those as well.

But I present these humble table scraps.

* * *

 _Pidge purposefully tagged behind Allura at balls so she could avoid talking. Let Allura do all the work – it was usually a solid plan. She could pass with a gracious smile at an ambassador, a short formal exchange with the President of some important planet._

 _She only was fine with coming to these parties because Allura let her pick her own gowns. Pidge preferred light dresses, opposed to the heavy things that were quickly becoming fashionable in Vesta Calda. Pidge hoped to make waves with the tea length green damask. Make it popular. Then she could buy more and be more comfortable at these balls._

 _Hunk had gone to discuss trade somewhere, so he was out of sight. Lance was talking to some ladies over drinks – no surprise there. If she stood on her toes, she could make out the tops of Shiro and Matt's heads as they spun around on the dance floor together._

 _And Keith stood against the wall by the balconies, not twenty feet from Pidge. His arms were folded loosely against his chest, something strong in his glass, but it was untouched. Their gazes met for a moment, and Pidge stuck her tongue out slightly at him. The corner of his mouth lifted, and Pidge grinned._

 _Pidge had spaced out a little trying to figure out who else she knew was in attendance when Allura placed a hand on her shoulder and spun her around. "-and this is Pidge Holt, our Green Paladin. She was instrumental in the liberation of your system."_

 _"It's a pleasure to meet you, finally." The speaker was stunningly beautiful. Coppery eyes and high cheeks. Hair that shimmered like bismuth, held back by braids. Broad shoulders. Fine clothes tailored to fit his form._

 _Something about his beauty made Pidge feel small. Inadequate._

 _"I am Veron, Ambassador of the Quinira System."_

 _"Pleasure to make your acquaintance," Pidge replied politely. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Allura prodding her on. Reluctantly, she carried on the conversation. "I hear your people contributed invaluable resources towards the end of the war."_

 _"As soon as we were freed – all thanks to you, Green Paladin." He gave a small bow. He took her hand and kissed it._

 _He did not let go after._

 _"All in a day's work," Pidge said brusquely, painfully aware of the prolonged contact. "Can't only thank me, though. The entire team was on the Quinira mission." She wiggled her fingers a bit, hoping he'd get the hint to let go… he did not get the hint._

 _In her peripheral, Pidge could see Allura supressing a scowl._

 _"All the same, Missus Holt."_

 _Pidge jolted. "Oh, no. Just… just Miss! Just Pidge Holt."_

 _Veron drew back slightly, eyebrows raised. "Surely not! A woman such as you, not paired off?"_

 _"Um. No?"_ I'm only twenty! He couldn't possibly think-

 _"That could always change." Veron smiled winningly. Perhaps he thought he was being charming, but Pidge felt very squirmy._

 _Allura was no longer holding back her thundering expression, but Veron couldn't see – she was behind him._

 _Pidge's face was blazing hot. She removed her hand his awkwardly, lips pursed. "I don't need-"_

 _"Pidge! There you are!" Keith appeared out of the crowd, drink in hand. It was still full and untouched. He, however, was swaying. He butted up against Pidge's side, arm thrown over her shoulder. "M' not feeling too great." He looked down at his drink forlornly. "Think somethin' in this is bad for me."_

 _"Oh geez." Pidge bowed comically under Keith's added weight._

 _Veron took a step back. "He is going to be sick?"_

 _Allura stepped forward, placing an unrelenting hand on Veron's shoulder. "Oh, yes. He's a genetic mess. I should've told the bartender not to give him anything. Pidge, could you please escort Keith back to our apartments? I believe he is done celebrating."_

 _"Of course!" Pidge rejoiced a little too noticeably. She reined herself back in, and shouldered Keith. "Ahem… ah, of course. Come on, you lug."_

 _As soon as they were out of eyesight and earshot in a hallway, Pidge sighed in relief. "You're a real lifesaver, Keith. I owe you a ton."_

 _Keith smiled, straightening out his suit. "Least I could do. You looked uncomfortable – and Allura looked ready to lynch that guy – who was he?"_

 _"Ambassador from Quinira."_

 _"I hated that system."_

 _"Me too." Pidge stretched. They walked together through the arched corridors. The sounds of a celebrating city could be heard from the open air windows – two weeks into the Liberation Festival, and still going strong._

 _"Want to watch a movie until everyone gets back?"_

 _Pidge smiled at the suggestion. "That would be great."_

* * *

Pidge felt like shit.

She felt like something had chewed her up and spat her back out. She wanted to just curl up and let the storm pass, but she couldn't do that. This wasn't her bedroom in the castle, where she could pass out and no one would wake her – this was the wilderness, and Pidge knew better than anybody what dangers the forest could present.

Now, after a shitty night, she was going on a shitty hike.

She was in tune with nature's mechanics, but she wasn't immune, and that thought kept her on her toes.

It was nearing daybreak (though it was hard to tell, to be honest), and the sun was starting to peek over the mountain range. Two moons trailed behind it on either side like ghostly crescents in the red sky.

The plan was that she would be back at ground zero before Keith woke up, so he wouldn't panic, and have some water waiting in the weird little drinking horn she had made by smashing the end of her messed up bracer with a rock until it folded closed. With the water, she would be able to at least clean Keith's burns now, and try to get the dirt out from their graceful face first landing last night. It also might be helpful in waking Prince Jelte – Pidge wasn't keen on slapping him awake, and he hadn't been responsive to any other attempts to rouse him.

Pidge figured she was going the right way, now, after following a set of animal tracks until she came to a downwards slope, then tripping over creepers and vines on her way down, and then battling off thirsty little bugs that relentlessly were swarming her.

Pidge almost cried when she heard the sounds of water, and she almost fell flat on her face again going down into the ravine.

It was clear as day, slipping over smooth rocks and boulders. It was like a creek back on earth. She splashed into it – her bodysuit was the regular Paladin deal, so it was watertight – and dunked her head beneath. She scrubbed the dirt off her face and arms, and the ream of blood around her hairline. She ran her hands through her hair, reveling in how the cool water felt, rubbing out the soot and smoke smell.

She had always hated how the smell of smoke clung to clothes and hair. Campfires always made her itch for a shower immediately after.

When she was satisfied with her hair, she sat on the bank, wringing it out, then throwing it into a haphazard bun.

She dipped the bracer water horn into the water – the real reason she was there. It had a small drip coming out of the bottom, so she pounded it down against a rock again, and it was fixed. She had no way of making it completely watertight, but this would have to do.

Getting back up the ravine was a whole other caboodle, one that involved a lot of swearing and almost disasters, but she managed to get up over the ridge with the employ of some now-mangled plants.

It was only a few minutes to walk back to the tree where Keith and Jelte were resting, since Pidge knew where she was going.

Keith was still sitting up against the tree, but he wasn't asleep like Pidge hoped he would be. His good eye was open, lazily following her as she approached the tree.

Now, in the morning light, it was easier to see the damage done to his face. The shock had worn off during the night, and now Pidge was looking over the blisters and the pussy scabs with a more objective point of view. Some of the skin was glistening wet and was secreting some type of clear liquid, especially around where his hairline used to be on the right side – really gross.

All of the hair that had been charred and sooty against his head the night before had been shed, and carried away by the clear ooze. On the ear that had been burned, the majority of the fur was burned off – the flesh wasn't too affected, so there was no open wounds on the edges, but the inner shell was crusted with blood. His fur was burned away, but he had managed to save a good amount of his flesh. Fortunate.

"I found some water, for the Prince, and for your gross face." Pidge stepped up a small incline of rock, mounting the ridge of the tree's roots. "I know, I know, and don't worry: I'm getting Prince Jelte up once I'm done with you. He's not going anywhere."

Keith said nothing. His face remained blank, though the twitching muscles hinted that he wanted to say something.

Pidge kneeled carefully next to Keith, taking pains to not spill a drop of the water from the bracer water horn. "Just to get the dirt out. I don't want you getting sick. Take a drink first. Don't worry, my nature senses aren't tingling – it's safe, Green Paladin guarantee."

Despite his weak protests, Pidge forced him to take a drink out of the horn, and when he refused to drink any more, she splashed some of it up on his face. He tried shoving it away with his good hand, but Pidge just occupied it by grabbing his fingers and playfully twining her fingers with his. He smacked her hand away before she could actually get far with her teasing distraction.

Keith did give in to her. He allowed Pidge to trickle water over his face and neck, even if it did hurt like hell.

"The collarbone is broken." He said quietly. "On the left." Pidge paused, surprised by Keith suddenly speaking. "It broke when the blast got me through the door and threw me against the opposite wall… I think. I didn't really feel it before now – a burned up face and neck are good distractions from that kind of lesser pain, I guess."

"Will you be able to move a little?" Pidge asked him. "I can use something to make a sling… your hood?" Keith nodded.

Pidge placed the water horn down, leaning it against a root, then snagged the hood from where she had left it.

She couldn't tie it over his shoulder – not with the terrible burns on that side of his neck, so Pidge opted for just refastening the clips. It was a little tight, but the whole point was to keep Keith from moving his arm too much – so she had won that one in that respect.

Once Pidge was sure that Keith was more comfortable and _No, Pidge, I don't need anything else!_ was said in a very rude way, Pidge dumped the rest of the water from the horn on Keith's good side and she flitted away, back down to the ravine.

She had splashed back into the water when she heard a series of unfamiliar chipper calls – high and lilting. Small creatures flicked through the air overhead – vibrant yellow and blue little things. They looked extraordinarily like goldfinches, but a little bigger, and their tails had long tendril-like extensions that had drops of blue on the ends.

They flew in small flocks, perching vertically on the sides of trees and singing to each other and themselves.

Pidge stopped to observe them for a while, but it became increasingly obvious that they were the ones watching _her_. Not in some menacing way, but curious like a child: too scared to come close, but intrigued enough to stay.

So Pidge went up the side of the ravine like they weren't watching her at all, though she did keep an eye on them (during her role of Paladin, she's had her fair share of things that didn't look to be carnivorous turning out to be extremely, _dangerously,_ carnivorous).

Their song, as well as the songs of other birds that had returned to the forest that morning, filled the air between the trees, eliminating the deafening silence from nature that had hung over the forest the night before.

It had dulled down a little when she returned to the tree a second time. Keith was tapping his feet together, clicking the toes to a rhythm that calmed him. And Jelte was still out cold.

Pidge debated just throwing some water directly in his face, but that seemed extremely unfair. He was helpless at the moment, and she didn't want to send him into some kind of shock when he wakes up.

She settled for simply trickling a small amount into the corner of the Prince's mouth. At first he was unresponsive, but she tapped him on the cheek, and… his eyes flinched.

She tapped again, lightly, relentlessly, until his head jolted up and he was coughing.

"Oh, thank God." Pidge's hand went behind his neck to support his head. "Jesus, I didn't actually think you were going to wake up."

Keith gave a throaty laugh. "Would've saved us trouble."

"Don't mind him."

Prince Jelte offered a small laugh of his own. "No, no, it was very funny, Blade. A good joke." Those huge eyes were lidded, as if he was exhausted from the full sleep he had received. He looked around at the forest. "Though, it would be appreciated if I was filled in on this… interesting predicament we have found ourselves in. Is this Erobine?"

"No." Pidge frowned. "It's not. We crash landed, if you remember. We didn't exactly make a clean getaway."

"I can see that…" Prince Jelte said flatly.

He had every right to have that tone, but Pidge couldn't help but feel a little annoyed. He had been unconscious for the whole ordeal. _She_ was the one who had to pull two asses out of a burning ship (not to mention, the first attempt occurred while the shuttle was fucking _falling_ ), and she was the one who had dragged them both to safety, and had found water, and had only gotten two hours of rest that night! It wasn't a great feeling, to be underappreciated, especially by the person whose _life_ she had saved.

Pidge tipped the horn again, giving him another drink.

"How are you feeling?"

"I am feeling rather sore in some places… and numb in others."

Pidge's eyebrows drew together. "Numb where?"

His arm lifted joltingly, drifting over his ribs, and down over his belly until it hovered over his navel – where the unnatural rise in his torso was most prominent. "It – it begins here."

Pidge froze up. _Oh God oh God oh God_ _oh dear God what do I do?!_ As his hand continued to mark the affected areas, a disgusting cold clawed its way through Pidge's stomach and up her throat. Over his hips, down the thigh – he was unable to feel there – and Prince Jelte's voice was just as numb as he noted the absence of feeling in the rest of his legs.

It confirmed what Pidge had hoped with all her might wouldn't be the case. She had wished it was just flexibility found in his species. She wished it wasn't so damning a prospect for an Ioden as it was for a human. But it seemed that all vertebrates had common use of their spine.

And Prince Jelte's was no exception.

He must realise…

He caught sight of her trembling, his giant golden eyes at full attention now. There was something in them; a silent plea to not say a word out loud. He knew of his situation, but Pidge understood. The moment the words were said aloud, the reality of the situation would crash down and become so much heavier and difficult for him to bear.

No matter how steeped in facts his life was, this was one fact that he wanted to avoid, if for a little while longer.

Pidge nodded. "Is there anything that you would require, Prince Jelte?"

"I'm fine," he replied shortly, averting his eyes and leaning his head back to rest on the ground once more. "Please, attend to the Blade."

Pidge was hesitant – she thought he would ask her to do something – but she placed a fleeting hand on the Prince's shoulder, then went back to check on Keith's face and collarbone.

His face was too exposed to the elements, Pidge knew. She would sooner or later have to find something to dress the open wounds. Most likely she would find that on the shuttle, possibly in Prince Jelte's clothing trunk. There were yards upon yards of material that she could pull apart into strips, and it was mostly all clean, too. She would just have to wait until the shuttle stopped smouldering.

Keith brushed her hand away, refusing her attempt to tend to him. "The more you touch it the worse it'll get. Just let my body do the work." Pidge huffed indignantly, but he growled low. "You know the aesthetic isn't the only perk of being half Galra. We have biological defenses humans could only dream of. Just let my body do the work for now before you try any messing around with it, okay?"

"Is that what that clear shit you're leaking is?"

"It's an _advanced biological defense_!"

"Kay, fine." Pidge huffed. "Don't have to be a dick about it. I guess you're just doing Kolivan proud, sheesh."

She sat herself down back by Prince Jelte.

"I tried fixing our Blade. He's too angry – think I'll leave him." She smirked, but the Prince's mouth remained a flat line. "Yah… okay." Pidge coughed quietly. "Look, I know it's a shock – I mean, for you there was very little transition – but please believe me when I say this is just temporary. We're getting out of this."

Jelte shifted his head so he was staring up at the canopy of leaves. "Do explain your optimism."

"Our contact on Erobine was expecting us. He's not incredibly reliable, but he could send correspondence to our allies. After that, our arrival at the Ioden Library is expected… in a week."

Keith rustled behind Pidge. "Well… shit."

Prince Jelte's eyes shut and his exhale was audible.

"It sounds worse than it is." Pidge tried to reassure.

"To be honest, Paladin, it sounds incredibly bleak." Jelte said. "Our Blade is unable to move in fear of disturbing his own bodily fluids-"

"Hey!"

-"and I am not in control of my full bodily faculty. You, Paladin Pidge, seem to also be in pain, all of our physical conditions are concerning. Our vessel – from an educated guess based off of your landing technique and the smell – has been absolutely demolished, which is dangerous. And I also assume we slept unprotected, under this tree, which is humiliating."

Pidge scowled. "Damn, Suzy Sunshine. You know, I'm trying to comfort you."

"For which I am thankful. But I appreciate not having facts sugar coated. It is not in my nature to accept skewed information."


End file.
